


Coat Hangers

by writehandman



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sam Ships It, Sam is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8864020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writehandman/pseuds/writehandman
Summary: Sam is so, so tired of Cas and Dean constantly being emotionally constipated. So in order to be a good brother, and a good friend, he locks them in a (heavily warded) closet together.





	

It was getting ridiculous. Dean and Cas would sit there,  _ right in front of Sam,  _ and essentially have eye-sex from across the table, but neither of them had pulled their heads far enough out of their asses to realize that the feelings were  _ mutual _ ! Y'know, both sides of the coin? Same on both ends? Reciprocating affection? It was obvious to literally the entire world, everyone could tell, except for them.

 

Sam had to get them to figure their shit out. The sexual tension was so heavy you could cut through it with a machete, and they sure weren't going to make any moves without pretty much being shoved. There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to get Cas drunk, or even tipsy enough to admit his feelings, and Dean knew how to repress his shit drunk. So getting them wasted was off the table. And anyways, there would have always been the risk of them forgetting their admissions of love afterwards anyway.

 

This would take either some serious planning, or a really good ( _ bad _ ) idea. Sam sighed and stood up, pushing the stack of the books away. He figured he should go and try to reclaim his laptop from Dean. Sending a generic prayer that wouldn't be heard by anything (according to Cas, the bunker didn't get any quote unquote Angel Radio signal) , that his laptop would be virus free, and that the history wasn't full of bad porn, He walked into Dean’s empty room and grabbed it off his side table. He opened it to a  _ really  _ bad porno playing.

What has the world come to when a man isn't even safe on his own laptop? Sam needed to fix this situation. And  _ fast _ , his and the rest of the universe's sanity was at risk here.

 

Finding ideas for ways to get his brother and the angel together wasn't as hard as he thought it was going to be. A quick Google search for 'ways to get two people to confess their feelings' brought him to a Wikipedia page on cliche romance novel tropes, and after reading trashy book excerpts ( _ and maybe downloading a few novels to read for himself)  _ Sam had pretty much decided how to go about this. Phase one of operation Destiel was underway.

 

In all fairness, step one was pretty easy. Finding some binding sigils in the library was a simple enough process. He found a few that would bind power for a few hours as long as the angel in question was within its bounds. Adding that on top of a trap sigil (with holy oil as a backup.) And a fairly complicated one that would make the warding impossible to detect unless you knew exactly what you were looking for. That got Castiel out of the way, next was to ward against Dean. Making the door impenetrable and unopenable required some pretty strange ingredients. Who the hell just had goat hooves lying around?

 

Apparently the Men of Letters. God, he’d never been more thankful for a well stocked pantry of ingredients. Goat hooves, sheepskin, California poppy, fairy bones, and even the vertebrae of a porpoise  _ (did porpoises even have vertebrae? _ ) were quickly gathered. Then Sam picked a closet that had enough room for at least three grown men to fit into. It was probably used to store janitorial supplies at some point, judging by the lingering scent of bleach. He painted the wards carefully, being sure to seal them with his blood so neither Dean or Cas would be able to get rid of them.

 

Phase two was ready to begin.

 

It was a matter of getting the two of them off guard, at the same time. And in the closet, as backwards as that seemed to be. So a quick ‘hunt’ meeting, about a fake werewolf case, and hiding the silver bullets would be in order. Sam cracked his knuckles and grinned, shaking out his wrists. Never let it be said that he  _ wasn't  _ a devious bastard.

 

"What, a werewolf hunt Sammy? Seriously? After averting yet another apocalypse, we're still doing this crap?" Dean complained through his mouthful of cheeseburger. It was incredible how one man could have so little regard for his arteries.

 

"This 'crap' saves lives Dean."

 

"Yikes Samantha, no need to throw me a bitchface. But can't we just... Let another hunter handle it?"

 

"... What new series just came out on Netflix Dean?" He sighed, leveling his brother with an unimpressed stare.

 

Dean gaped for a second, working his jaw before he decided to just glare at Sam.

 

"I believe it is called 'Stranger Things'. I find it very intriguing." Castiel said, ignoring the look of betrayal that flashed across Dean's face.

 

"... Can you two morons just go get the silver bullets?" He groaned, letting his head fall on the table.

 

"That was rude bitch."

 

"Jerk. Just get them so we can go."

 

"Where did you put them last Sam?" Cas did that weird very... Cas-like head tilt along with his question.

Dean's expression changed a little seeing it, and Sam had to keep himself from grinning ( _ correction, laughing) _ at his brother.

 

"The closet closest to the bathroom."

 

"Why would you do that?" Dean groaned. "What benefit do you get from putting it there? Other than making it a pain in my ass?"

 

"Better conditions. Keeps the metal in better shape."

"Whatever nerd. C'mon Cas," Dean grabbed Castiel's arm, dragging him off. "Let's go."

 

"Dean- I am perfectly capable of walking there without guidance."

 

"Just walk feather-brain." Dean laughed.

 

Sam grinned. This was going  _ great.  _ Phase two, check.

 

Phase three was the easiest. Follow them until they were both inside, and lock the door.

\-----

"Cas, I don't see anything. Do you?"

 

"... Maybe we have the wrong closet."

 

"What makes you say that dude?" Dean looked up at him from where he had been rifling through the messy and cluttered shelves.

 

Cas pointed at a few fairly non-descript, beat up cardboard boxes to his right. "The items inside of those, Dean."

 

"Aw cmon, can't be anything too bad." He snickered, walking over to peer into the boxes. "Just some-" He broke off spluttering. Inside were an assortment of candles, which wouldn't have been unusual for the bunker, if not for the roll of condoms and bottle of lube thrown in with them.

 

"Would you like to rephrase that Dean?" Cas said dryly.

 

"... I'm gonna kill Sam." He growled, going to open the door, only to find it locked. "What the hell?"

 

Trying the door experimentally, Cas shrugged a little. "I believe we are locked in."

 

"Can't you just... Fly us out of here?"

 

Castiel grabbed Deans shoulder and concentrated, frowning when nothing happened. "My grace is at full capacity. I should be able to use my- oh. I see."

 

"What? Cas- What?"

 

"Your brother has warded this room. Very well I might add. His enochian is improving."

 

"Well- get rid of it!"

 

"Dean, you don't understand, this kind of spell work can only be undone by Sam. He sealed it with his blood."

"... Well what the hell are we supposed to do?"

 

"...How adverse would you be to making use of that box?"

 

Dean turned scarlet and made some unflattering faces and startled noises. But he didn’t say no.

 

\-----

 

Sam sat in the library with a cup of coffee and his laptop. He'd unlock the closet door in a few hours  _ (eyes closed of course _ ). But as far as he could tell, operation Destiel was a success. Thank God for noise cancelling headphones.


End file.
